While the attention of world cinéastes shifts to Iran and Eastern
Europe, terrific films from China/Taiwan/Hong Kong, the previous hot spot,
continue to straggle across the Atlantic for decidedly belated North
American release. Vive L'Amour, from Taiwan, for example, won the
top prize at Venice back in 1994, but is only now turning up at a theater
near me. (Unless you happen to live in one of the continent's largest
metropolitan areas, it will probably not turn up a theater near you.) I'm
perplexed by the delay; as foreign-language "art" films go, this one is
really quite accessible. Those of you who hate reading subtitles will be
delighted to know that a good 25 minutes pass before a single line of
dialogue is spoken, and that the remainder of the film is almost equally
terse -- it's very nearly a silent movie, in fact. (Hey, where's
everybody going?) What's more, it's quietly effective in the same way
that the best silent films are, telling its story via a distinct and rich
visual language; director Tsai Ming-liang's use of the cavernous, spare
apartment set, in particular, is beautifully evocative. The plot, which
involves the various complications that ensue when three separate people
find themselves with a key to the same empty luxury Taipei apartment,
could easily be played as farce (I shudder to think of what the French
would do with it), but Tsai chooses instead to emphasize the characters'
chronic loneliness and desperation, highlighting the pain that's at the
core of just about every great comedy. A few moments provoke a grin or a
chuckle -- and welcome they are, too -- but on the whole the film is
surprisingly subdued, given the potential for "Three's Company"-style
shenanigans. Tragedy = comedy minus emotional distance. Consistently
compelling throughout, it finally seems a bit less than the sum of its
parts, perhaps because one of the three characters (all of whom are more
or less equally prominent in the narrative) is explored in considerably
finer detail than the other two. The final shot is clearly intended to be
powerful and emotionally overwhelming, but I found myself strangely
unmoved...mostly because I didn't feel that I knew, or understood, the
character whose face fills the frame for several minutes. A remarkable
work nevertheless.